


Light the Dawn

by k_yuuki



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Friendship, Gen, Implied Torture, Platonic Soulmates, Reincarnation, non-graphic deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 05:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19350667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k_yuuki/pseuds/k_yuuki
Summary: Chuck and Bryce, even past lives were never kind to them. 5 times Bryce sacrificed his life for Chuck and 1 time they lived to tell the tale.





	Light the Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is actually inspired by [ All Been Done Before ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/556578) by Eligh.  
> The title is from Aimer’s song - Brave Shine  
> On another hand, this fic can be seen as a romantic one, even though I did not think of that when writing this. This one is not beta’d, sorry if there are mistakes.

**One** :

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom in the middle of a war. Fearing for his children, the King sent them to the smallest town on the kingdom’s other border, hoping they would be safe there.

The oldest daughter was full of determination and kindness. She heard the horrible news of the war and the devastation it brought. A neighboring country hellbent on domination and saw their peaceful kingdom as a target. She grew up to be a healer, so there would be no more loss, no more pain; so that people could grow up old and happy and healthy.

Meanwhile, her younger brother befriended with other little kids in the village, mostly orphans and outsiders. He was kind and understanding. Before long, he became the unofficial leader of the little troublemakers. He was a great prankster, and an even greater strategist. Nobody knew how their little group managed to trick the bullies off, or how they herded the sheep and cows back when the shepherd forgot to lock his gate, or how one day everything suddenly upside down and nobody could change that back until the next day. They got into one trouble and another so fast.

But the towners loved him, he brought laughter back to the quiet and fearful village. He tried his best to keep them cheerful, especially when the haunting news about the loss and disaster got to them.

Amongst all, he became best friends with an orphan kid with the bluest eyes they had ever seen. Blue eyes meant that one of the kid's parents was not from their country, and the villagers ostracized him because of it.

At fifteen, the blue eyed kid had gone to the capital, wanting to serve the knights. The two made a promise to return to each other.

“You’re so cheesy,” the knight-to-be laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll come back okay? And then we will play  _ hunters _ all night long.”

“Promise?” he raised his pinky.

“I promise that I’ll return to you, my Prince,” he solemnly swore, taking the smaller boy pinky with his own. “No matter what, I’ll return to you.”

Years had passed and the only news they got was that the boy betrayed their kingdom, switched sides to the enemy. The younger brother did not want to believe that, saying the blue eyed boy was loyal to them, to him. But his letters never arrived anymore, and he did not know what to believe.

“It was expected,” one said, “he was one of them. The knights were foolish to let him in.”

“I knew it,” another one scoffed. “Should’ve just offed the kid when we got a chance.”

But the younger son still kept his stance. No, his friend would not do that. He was the most loyal person he knew, and that saying something, because he knew all of the town. The blue eyed kid never betrayed him, not even for the most insignificant deal they made.

“He promised me!” he protested.

An old man scoffed. “Promise meant nothing kid. It’s just words, easily broken.”

“He would never do that! He's loyal, and kind, and—”

“You don't know his situation, kid. Out there? The war is never kind. You think your friend would hesitate? No, if you're scared enough, you would do anything to get out of there. Maybe that boy is just using whatever he has on his hand,” the old man grunted.

Disillusioned, the now young man looked down, saddened. He wanted to believe his friend would never do that. But the alternative was even more terrifying. The lad liked his friend alive more than being a traitor.

So, he hoped that the blue eyed kid was a traitor, that he was somewhere out there and would just come back.

Half a decade later, the war was won. And so, the Prince and Princess was recalled back. When the now crowned prince asked about the blue eyed boy, about his defection, the King looked at him sadly.

The blue eyed boy had died for giving their kingdom information. He was a spy for the kingdom, that his information was the key for them to win the war. They were at the brink of losing, but his friend had a brilliant idea. He infiltrated the enemy ranks and they had trusted him because of his eyes.

He was found out, but not before he relayed the newest placement of the enemy’s troops and poisoned their supplies, weakening them enough so their knights could just swoop in and win the war.

But the result was the same, as the Prince had lost his best friend.

“You liar,” he cried. “You promised to return to me.”

 

**Two** :

The two kids looked at each other awkwardly. It was not everyday you got chosen by the Augur.

“Hey, I’m Bricius, from the House of Laurentius,” the slightly older one introduced himself.

The smile the other gave him was blinding. “I’m Carolus!”

The two bonded instantly. When the Augur came out from his council, he was greeted by the two boys teaching each other. Bricius was brilliant with number while Carolus was a genius in memorization.

It was hard for the Augur to tell them the truth about the ceremony, so he kept his mouth shut. It was kinder for the two of them to remain ignorant about their world a little longer.

It was kinder, the Augur reminded himself.

Yet, as he saw the two got closer and closer, it was hard. Because the House of Laurentius was pressuring him to do  _ something, _ while the Praetor himself was on the other line, hoping that the gods would not choose his son.

In the end, the matter was taken out of his hand.

“Bricius? Now is not a good time, I am waiting for another acolyte to come,” he tried to explain. It was not good if the older boy knew about what this meeting entailed. Bricius was getting protective of the younger boy, like a lioness to her cub.

“I know,” Bricius commented, blue eyes cold like the winter snow. “Carolus never got your message.”

The Augur gulped, his throat was getting dry. The kid knew then. “Bricius, listen. I know that you want to protect him, but this is not something I have a choice on. This is a tradition, if not a disaster will–”

“I am volunteering. If there is a volunteer you don’t have to decide which one of us, right? I’ve read the rules. The House of Laurentius has a lot of heirs; I am not even the first one in the line, you’ll have no problem from that. They would even be proud if I get chosen. But what about the Praetor? He has only one son. He will never forgive you if you choose him,” he reasoned. Threatened, more accurately, but the Augur knew the young child was desperate.

In the end, he sighed. A heavy weight unloaded from his shoulder — he did not have to choose between the children. The relief was bitter and short. A child chose for him. How could he let such a young boy to weigh such a burden? What kind of adult was him? What kind of old man would rather let such a young kid bear such responsibility?

“You… do you understand what you’re saying, son?”

The smile he got was brittle, but it was answer enough.

That night, the ceremony was held. People rejoiced, the masses celebrate. True to Bricius words, the House of Laurentius had amicably gave how grateful they were speech to the populace. The Praetor gave him a relieved and disturbed look at the same time.

And a young soul was lost from their world. He did not even let out a sound as he vanished into the fire. It was sickening. He could hear people cheering, celebrating and drinking, laughing as if they had not damn yet another innocent soul for their own selfishness.  


The Augur resoluted himself to be the one to tell the younger boy. His eyes were full of betrayal and sadness as he finished the tale.

“Why him?” Carolus asked, tears brimmed his eyes. “Why does it have to be him?”

The Augur paused. “It’s to honor our ancestors. A sacrifice to appease the gods.”

Now the boy gave him confused look, anger stirred on his eyes. The Augur tried his best to explain again. “Legend said, our Republic rises from fire as a gift from the gods. So to respect them, every half a century, a child is chosen as a prove that we still remember them, an honor of the greatest degree…”

 

**Three** :

Charles was panicking.

He knew that this would happen. He had seen it coming from miles away. The army was closing in to his and his father’s research and they could not burnt them fast enough. If those information got into the wrong hands, millions more would die, and they could let that happen.

Military was one of those hands.

But they were too late, the door was forced open and they still had yet to destroy all of the dangerous information.

The father and son were dragged out, the gun muzzles behind their backs. The commander said something in a language he could not understand, yelling and screaming.

Terrified, Charles never say anything.

Thus, the duo was brought into some sort of holding cell and day after day, asked about something gibberish. If Charles could understand them, he would just rattle out anything so that the pain would end. But he did not, and any pleading and screaming he made was useless. His father tried everything so that the militaristic men would leave him alone. Charles did not want to think what they did to him or what he had to do for that to happen.

“ _ Shh… You’re safe _ ,” a warm voice soothed, finally in a language he understood. He was so tired of all these, he did not even have the strength to open his eyes anymore. That voice and that language made him feel relief, even more so when he said his next sentence. “ _ I am a spy from the Command Intelligence. I am going to get you and your father out, okay? _ ”

 

Charles groaned. The so called spy did something, there were voices, grunting and pained yelp. He felt the man knelt beside him again. “ _ Okay. I am taking you out first, and then your father. Don’t worry about your sister, Agent Frost has kept her safe. She’s helping me with the distraction. This will sting a little. _ ”

Whatever the guy did, Charles lost his consciousness and the pain was no more. The next thing he knew, he woke up to the smell of hospital. He remembered waking up before, high and giddy and a little loopy, but this was the first time he felt solid enough to even talk. His father was standing guard not far from him. “Dad?”

“Oh, son. Thank God. Are you alright? Doctor!”

Well, the next few days were a blur. He remembered this and that. He had never seen the spy anymore.

“Who’s Agent Frost?” he asked out of the blue as Ellen roller his wheelchair out of the hospital.

His mother stiffened, “who told you about that?”

“The guy that got me out,” he frowned at his mother, one who usually was rarely there for him and Ellen, but somehow was here from their kidnapping just in time to take Ellen to another country and still stayed until now.

“Mom?”

His parents both sighed and tried to explain to him his family legacy. His father codename was Orion and mom was Frost. Like straight from the old snow white fairytale she used to tell him before they slept. One where the Frost Queen was in love with her Hunter named Orion and they went hunting together and they had an adorable daughter named Ellen and a son named Charles.

“Do you know who saved me? Where is he? Can I say thank you?”

The awkward silence they gave him was deafening. “He died trying to destroy our research that fell to the enemy hands,” his father finally said, regret filled his voice.

Charles did not know that sorrow was such a powerful feeling. It was like he was missing something he just obtained and would never find again.

 

**Four** :

“Hello, Chuck.”

Chuck was startled out of his pain and quickly got up. “Hey,” he panted, “Bryce!”

He walked to the sitting man, “Casey and Sarah are pinned down outside.”

“I’m on it,” Bryce moved and suddenly groaned in pain, the bullet that lodged into his gut had soared in pain at his movement. 

“Oh, my God… oh my God,” Chuck rasped, the situation suddenly dawned on him. Bryce bit down a chuckle, his best friend never changed. “Oh my God, you’ve been shot.”

“Yeah,” he managed.  _ No, shit _ , he bit down. “I’m really sorry about this, Chuck.”

“No!” Chuck declared. Bryce gave him a weak smile. “You're going to be fine— It's not that bad.”

But Bryce was already having a hard time concentrating. When Chuck said something about Sarah his determination dimmed a little. Chuck would be fine, Bryce reasoned to himself. He could let go now. Because Sarah and Casey would protect him if any other situation arise. So, Bryce gave him the disk.

_ Sorry _ , the word got stuck in his mouth, _ Thank you for the friendship you gave me, it meant a lot _ , he wanted to say. Those memories of them were what gave him the strength to continue his journey.

_ Goodbye. _

And Bryce Larkin died a second time.

 

**Five** :

“A chosen one? Isn’t that a tad too easy?” grumbled the young boy — barely into his teen yet, skeptical. “If the war can be solved by finding this so called  _ chosen one, _ why the hell we are suffering this war for  _ decades _ then?”

“Because we  _ haven’t _ find the  _ chosen one _ yet, of course,” the Resistance Leader retorted back. Brian raised his eyebrows at her, “and you believed this BS?”

“It’s on the prophecy,” she replied diplomatically, as if it answered everything.

Brian scoffed, hiding his disdain. True, he was thankful for the Resistance who took him in after he ran away from home (not that they knew that, they just thought he was another war orphan), but if they were just going to dump this all into a child’s arms and told he/she was going to win the war for them just forget it. “So? What did you call for me then?”

“Well,” the look the Leader gave him set off alarms on his head. “People are thinking that  _ you _ may be the one,” she declared, “Though I am not sure about that.”

Brian tilted his head, curious. “How do you know that anyway?”

“Well, we won’t know until you’re of age, of course. But the legend says,” she paused, giving him a look and took him to a backdoor he had noticed but did not say anything before. It revealed a room with a green orb in the middle. “That when the chosen one got close with the orb, it will glow.”

“Right…” drawled Brian, carefully not getting into the ‘secret’ room, watching from the distance. If the general wanted something from him, she was not going to trick him into that. “Whatever,” he decided to say, acting nonchalant. “I’ll just go back to Charlie and play hunters. Thank you for telling me this, general.”

Brian pretended he did not see the orb flickered nor the look she gave him. Not too far from the homebase, just outside of the door, Charlie was waiting for their conversation to be over. Brian did not say anything about this to their beloved leader either.

Brian had double checked that the orb had responded to Charlie during one of the nights where they were playing hide and seek. Charlie had been enamored with the orb, happily playing with it, not knowing what it meant while Brian had been horrified: Charlie did not know what lay ahead of him if the others knew about this, so he had sworn the younger to secrecy. This would be their secret.

They moved bases a few times, the Empire were looking for their lost prince, one that they were certain the Resistance had kidnapped. Brian wanted to snort at the news when it came. It was partially true, but Brian would not be the one to point that out. He stayed quiet, playing pranks with Charlie and annoying Morcant. Pretending to not notice the older resistance members were looking at the children there rather meticulously.

At the age of sixteen, when the coming of age ceremony was enacted, Brian knew he had to protect Charlie, who did not even understand that the adult wanted to use him as the face of Revolution, as  _ the Chosen One _ , one that would bring them to peace.

But tomorrow, if Brian did not show the adults that he could make the orb glows, it would at Charlie’s coming of age ceremony and he could not protect his friend from that. Thankfully, they could make use of the fact that they did not know Charlie could make the orb glows even though he was not of age yet.

“Listen, Charlie,” Brian whispered. “Tomorrow, will you help me?”

Charlie, hazel eyes shone in innocence, nodded happily. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do…”

.

.

.

The plan was a bust. However, fortunately, it turned out the orb responded to Brian too — just not as strong as it had been with Charlie.  _ ‘Just how many  _ **_Chosen Ones_ ** _ out there?’ _ he wondered. He had read about them, there were hundreds of thick and dusty tomes he had read before, but still there were no definite answer as to where the power came from or how many could wield said power.

It was fine, better him than Charlie. Charlie had not been tainted by the horrors of war yet. He had not known what it meant to survive. He had not realized that if they were to win the war, it meant there was to be casualties, from either side. One of them had to give, for the other to win. Brian closed his eyes, hoping that his friend would forever be exempted from it.

Brian put on his game face, smiling as if he was invincible, that he was proud to be chosen, that everything was perfect. The Leader looked at him approvingly.

The Empire would not be so forgiving.

He knew that.

***

“Well, do you still believe in the Chosen One, General?” Brian panted out, trying to even his breath, hiding his pain. The Leader gave him a glare.

“How many have died before me anyway?” he asked casually but eyes burned into the elderly lady that had been too used to the situation to be the first. Her eyes widened, “How do you know about that?”

Brian let out a broken laugh. “You are way too calm about all of this,” he gave her a feeble smile, waving his hands around himself, of his organs failing and the blood running from his nose that could not seem to stop, of his darkening vision tinted with red and black spots. “That, and the royal family had a whole library dedicated about the so called  _ Chosen Ones. _ ”

He laughed again at her stunned face. “What? You really should have researched the people before welcoming them in.”

He closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to recede, happy that his body just went numb instead. The orb could perform miracles: it could give them information, could manipulate weather, could heal people and many other things Brian could only imagine. 

Of course, such a thing came with a price.

Brian opened his eyes again, hands trembled and took out a journal. He held it in front of her.

“This contains many information about the army’s ranks, positions, guard rotations, the royal ranks and their castle entry and exit points, and many more. It might be a little outdated, but the royals rarely, if ever, changed their habits. It’s all I have on them. I’ll give this to you,” Brian clarified. “But you have to promise me that there will not be another Chosen One.”

The Leader opened her mouth, only to close it and opened it again. “How…”

“Promise me, General.”

The Resistance Leader took the book and nodded, “How did you get this?”

“You really have to do a background check, General,” Brian said instead. With that, Brian let out his last breath, believing Charlie would be safe, that he would not be the next victim of the orb. Brian really had hoped he could see Charlie’s smile one last time.

He was already gone as the Leader stayed silent, carefully did not promise anything. Face twisted in regret.

 

**+1** :

Space, the final tourism destination. Once the door was opened by the first friendly alien contact and advanced enough of method of transportation, the brake was unleashed and people were free to roam the space.

That was 300 years ago.

Now, almost every species had mixed with each other. Maybe some more than others, what with another war loomed over the horizon and immigration processes had been fast tracked, but everyone differed from one another, and the same applies to races: some just could not mix well with another.

Chuck looked at the glittering night sky, wondering what backlash would his planet got when he opened their gate.

Hopefully none.

But that was just wistful thinking.

That was the main reason why he was waiting for the ambassador to arrive at the first place. Hopefully, the man they sent was reasonable. He did not need another headache because a failed interplanetary relation nor death of millions on his hand.

“You’re too kind Chuck,” his sister, Ellie had said when Chuck was appointed as a Minister for their planet. “Too emotional. Not that it’s bad, it’s a good trait to have. But your job is not easy… I’m just scared it would change you too much, brother.”

Chuck then had no idea what he was going into. Too green, too naive, too ignorant. He did not know how heavy of a responsibility it was.

But now he was here. He had accepted that job and all the duties it entailed. So Chuck stood strong, exuding confidence he did not feel.

Half an hour later, the spacecraft door opened, revealing a familiar face he could not place, “Salutations, Ambassador.”

The man gave him a warm smile and grasped his hand in greeting, clear blue eyes meeting his own, “Salutations to you too, Minister.”


End file.
